Then Rose the World
by YokoYuyGal
Summary: Supernatural crossover...Dean, Alec that's not a pairing...yeah. just read it
1. Deadbeat

Hey! I'm back. Alright, so if you've read "okay with me" you kind of have some background on this story…in all fairness that was an awfully written story, but still. This idea has been bugging at me forever, and I almost went crazy when I saw Freak Nation and last week's Supernatural (the one where they're in the bank with a shapeshifter), so I thought I'd give it a shot. Please review, it seriously does give me ideas because mine are starting to go kinda stagnant. I wrote this chapter in a piece of notebook paper during a four hour shift as a hostess when no one was craving Japanese food. So even if you just want to criticize, go for it.

I don't own either of them

p.s.- by the way, most of the chapters will be named according to random impulses and quotes that I'm feeling at the time; I'll try and relate it to the story, but no promises that anyone other than me will get it

"Wake up the house is on fire,

and the cat's caught in the dryer.

Philosophy's a liar

when your home is your headstone."

- Deadbeat Holiday, Green Day

"_Jesus, Dad! You scared the hell out of me." Okay, so maybe the words were a bit anticlimactic after having their missing father suddenly show up in the hotel the brothers had been staying in, but after spending an hour dodging projectiles that an angry ghost kept throwing at them Sam didn't really have enough energy to criticize Dean lack of…whatever._

_They had been looking for their father for about three months now. It was a relief to see John for several reasons. Sam had, in the months since Jessica's death, been more driven to hunt than he had ever been. For a while he had thought the he and dean would work together better that ever; Sam' lust for revenge matching Dean's need to kill the demon who had stolen the mother. _

_Dean had always been the real hunter of the family. Even at a young age he seemed more enthused about it that even John. He just thrived on it, the tracking, the fight, the kill. Their father had, of course, encouraged it. As far back as Sam could remember, their dad had allowed Dean to spend weeks at a tie with other hunters so that he could learn from them, rarely letting him stay with them for more that a few days or a week before leaving again. He had even let him travel for almost a year with some hunter going on some "special jobs" when he was around eleven. They never really talked about it much, but Dean had seemed more…dedicated when he returned. _

_Despite his long absences they had been close. To Sam, Dean was God. He took care of Sam. No matter, what; like Sammy was really the only thing that mattered. Screw the rest of the world. It was Dean that inspired him to excel in school, because where there father might just give his approval, Dean treated everyone of Sam accomplishments as though they actually something to be proud of. He hadn't really wanted to be anything other that a hunter. Sure, he didn't really take to the life like the rest of his family did, but he was good at it, and he knew that he would never work with anyone in the same fluid way that he could with his brother. _

_That changed when Sam was sixteen. Dean disappeared; his father said that he was going on another trip, about a month this time. Sam had been mad that Dean had left without saying goodbye, he'd been begging his father to let him go on one of the trips, but John had refused him each time. He settled down to wait though; it wouldn't matter as long as it was only for a month. Dean had talked Sam into applying for Stanford, saying that it was the end of high school(he had started kindergarten a year early), so high might as well apply early decision to at least one school to get the councilors off his back. Stanford had been brought up as a joke; if Sam just got an acceptance it would be proof that he was a nerd. It didn't really matter, but Sam still wanted Dean to be there when he got his letter. _

_Time went by though, and the letter came two months later, before Dean had come home. Questioning his father had only told him that Dean would be gone longer, he didn't no how long, and no Dean had told John that he didn't have enough time to talk to Sam or call back. More time passed, and the tension between Sam and his father, which Dean had always before dissipated, grew. Without Dean, Sam began to hate the lifestyle which he lived. One night, after a fight with John, he announced that he would be going to Stanford. It wasn't until the first week of classes that he heard from Dean. After a short conversation which pretty much revolved around Sam's request that his brother, "fuck off" Sam slammed down the phone and threw himself into his studies. Other than the voice messages left by Dean Sam didn't see or hear from him until the night that his apartment was broken into. _

_Dean might have seemed rough around the edges, be he really was the more empathic of the two. All the same, it didn't take Sam long to notice that their was something wrong with his brother. As the days went by he seemed to grow impatient and almost desperate to find their father. Even hunting seemed to hold no interest to Dean. When Sam finally confronted him about it, it was like pulling teeth. After said prying, he'd gotten it out of his brother that Dean hadn't seen their father for almost half a year. They did most of their hunting separately and it had only been two weeks earlier that John had stopped answering his phone. _

_After Dean's surprised exclamation, he rushed towards his father. Sam inched closer as they embraced, hesitantly accepting a hug from his father a moment later. Sam had hoped that their father's return would bring Dean out of his mood. He cast a glance at his brother. 'Damn.' Something was seriously wrong. Dean kept on casting glances around the room nervously. He was even starting to fidget. Dean never fidgeted, not unless he was bored out of his mind. _

_Apparently having arrived at some course of action, Dean abruptly stopped his movements and cleared his thought before beginning, "Dad are you okay? anything following you?" _

_John looked at his son, noticing for the first time how…antsy he seemed. Realizing after a moment that his silence wasn't doing anything the improve Dean's apparently frayed nerves he answered, "No…Dean everything is fine. I thought I was closing in on the demon, and I need to stay under the radar. I think…I think that I've found a way to track it. We might really be able to…" his voice trailed off as Dean fixed him with a deep searching stare, "Dean, what's wrong."_

_Dean shook his head, seeming to come back to reality. "Nothing it's just...nothing. You're sure that you're okay?" At John's somewhat confused nod he continued. "Alright…alright then. That's good. You're okay. And Sammy, you're going to be okay too." Dean looked at his father and brother again. "Yeah, you guys'll do fine as long as you can learn how to be in the same room for ten minutes without arguing." _

_The rest of the night was…surreal, even by their standards. Dean's nervousness seemed to have left him, however, every once in while he would just start staring at John or Sam. Whenever they caught him at it, he just ginned and cracked a joke. Sam went to be that night feeling for the first time in a long time that everything might be okay again. Still, in defense of his natural instincts, in those few moments when waking and sleep blurs, Sam felt a weird sense of dread, like Alice while she was still falling down the rabbit hole, that when he woke up everything would be wrong._

Sam groaned a little as he rolled over to turn off the alarm clock. Waking up wouldn't be nearly as painful if it weren't for that god-awful sound. He opened his eyes and slowly tried to convince himself to get out of bed before his dad got back with coffee.

'I thought that kids were supposed to stop worrying about their dad's making them get up in the morning after they turned 18.' Then again it had always been Dean who had been a stickler for that whole early to rise thing. Sam shut his eyes again trying to cut off the thought process but it was too late. 'It's been seven months. Seven months today since Dean disappeared.'

Sometime in the early morning, while Sam and his father were still asleep, not 24 hours after having found their father, Dean disappeared. He had left the Impala, leading Sam to believe that something must have taken him, but their wasn't a struggle and the woman at the diner said that she had seen someone matching Dean's description trying to hitch a ride while she was driving in to open the restaurant. Dean had left of his own free-will. They had searched for two months, but eventually they had to let it drop, Dean was one of the best trackers out there. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

Sam and John had tried to play nice with each other while they searched for Dean. John offering a sympathetic ear when it came to Jessica, and Sam finally understanding John's determination behind killing the demon. But after so much time spend expecting a fight out of one another, it was inevitable. Strangely, after a full nigh of yelling, cursing, and bringing up bad memories, they managed to get along better.

Sam once suggested that John call up some of the hunters that Dean had spent so much time with as a child to see if they had heard from him. John had just looked at him and stated in a flat voice that he hadn't kept in touch with any of them to even know their phone numbers.

After a while, they agreed that they couldn't spend all of their time looking for Dean. They could keep an eye open for him while pursuing the demon. John finally told Sam how he planned on killing the demon. He hoped that the gun he inherited from a deceased college would be able to do it. Apparently the colt was able to kill anything, even demons. He had developed a way of tracking the demon, but all the same it was a stroke of pure luck that Sam started to get premonitions.

As he became more accustomed to understanding them, he and his father began to get closer to catching the demon each time. As far as Sam could tell, he only got premonitions about kids who were like him. Meaning that the demon had killed their mothers when they were six months old in the same fashion. I kind of creeped him out, it seemed as though the demon was somehow choosing these kids, making the physic, and corrupting them. It made Sam wonder if maybe he could be influenced by the demon.

He gave another groan as he rolled out of bed and began his morning routine. He was pulling a shirt over his head when he heard his dad let himself into the motel room. He sat down on the bed across from his dad and grabbed one of the cups of coffee. 'Thank God for caffeine. All the hunters would have died from the exhaustion and the world would be filled with random scary monsters without it.' He trying to focus on one of the print outs that his dad was holding about weather patterns when he felt a sharp stab or pain behind his eyes. His vision began to blur as it came again, and again, closer together each time, until he blacked out for a moment, only to be caught in a vision.

_A woman stood in the middle of a room stretching with both arms over her head. She had dark hair cut short and curling around her face, and longer in the back. Her face could only be described as beautiful, high, rounded cheekbones and long curling lashes around closed eyes made her look like a doll. Having apparently relieved the tension in her back she rolled her shoulders a little as she walked into another room. It was…plane. Almost devoid of color, the main features seemed to be a window on one wall and a large wooden cradle in the middle of the room. Seeming to hear something inaudible to Sam she cocked her head to the side and allowed her lips to curve into a smile. She walked over the cradle and knelt down. Sam couldn't see it, but he knew that their must be a baby in there. As if hearing his thoughts a small hard reached up and tried to grad at something hanging from the woman's shirt. Smiling again, she took of what seemed to be a plastic identification card that some businesses give their workers. She dangled it from her fingers letting the little arm tug at the plastic card. Sam could just make out her photograph, a bar code, and some of the company information. He couldn't see her name from the angle she was holding it. Suddenly the woman looked up. Looking around the room she slowly straitened from her bent over position and walked towards the window. She looked out of it for a moment before whipping back around. Her eyes widened and she slammed back into the wall. Sam could make out a dark figure as she was drug onto the ceiling. The first thing he heard during the vision was the baby's crying as it's mother's stomach was opened above its cradle. Then, everything seemed to catch be fire._

Gasping, Sam tried to catch his breath as John spoke calming words. He tried clear his nose of the smell of burning hair and forget the baby's screaming, but it wasn't going away as quickly as he would have liked.

"Sam, Sam…What was it? Sam what did you see?" Focusing of his father he tried to remember. The woman, a mother. Her apartment was plain…and there was a crib. And blood and fire…no wait…the babies. The babies had grabbed at her identification card. Shit, he still didn't know her name.

"I don't know… I couldn't see. Wait…" on the card, it had the business information, town and state…she had to live there too. "Gillette, we need to go to the Gillette, Wyoming."

Yes…no. good…bad…poke your eyes out to make it stop? Please review.


	2. Devil's Dance Floor

Okay…so not the review response that I was hoping for, but I appreciate every single one of them. Feel free to criticize and make suggestions 'cause I only have a faint idea of where I want this story to go. It occurs to me that most of what happens in this chapter probably won't be a surprise, and I know that it isn't well written, but for now it's the best I've got. I'm really one of those people that thinks in pictures, so I have a lot of details in my head, but when I try to type them all I can never get any dialogue and it goes to slow…again, any suggestions are welcome.

Her breath began to speak  
As she stood right in front of me  
The colour of her eyes  
Were the colour of insanity  
Crushed beneath her wave  
Like a ship, I could not reach her shore  
We're all just dancers on the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, a little more next to me  
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

Pressed against her face  
I could feel her insecurity  
Her mother'd been a drunk  
And her father was obscurity  
But nothin' ever came  
From a life that was a simple one  
So pull yourself together girl  
And have a little fun

Well she took me by the hand  
I could see she was a fiery one  
Her legs ran all the way  
Up to heaven and past Avalon  
Tell me somethin' girl, what it is you have in store  
She said come with me now  
On the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, a little more next to me  
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, a little more next to me  
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

The apple now is sweet  
Oh much sweeter than it ought to be  
Another little bite  
I don't think there is much hope for me  
The sweat beneath her brow  
Travels all the way  
An' headin' south  
This bleedin' heart's cryin'   
Cause there's no way out

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, a little more next to me  
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, a little more next to me  
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o   
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor  
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

- Devil's Dance Floor, Flogging Molly

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Sam cursed as he slammed the file closed. They'd been in Gillette for three days, and they couldn't find the woman from his vision. Sure there were a few women with kids about the right age, but none of them looked anything like the demon's next victim. It was 3:00 in the morning and they were running out of time. He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair a few times before looking over at his father who was trying to find out if any young couples might have recently moved into town and not visited a hospital yet.

"Damn it, this isn't working. Why would I have these visions if I can't do anything about them? I must be missing something." Sam looked like he was about to start pounding his head on a desk. John wanted to comfort his son, tell him that everything would work out, but he couldn't think of anything else to do without more information.

"Sam, just slow down. Think. You said that the room was empty could you see anything outside the window?"

Sam sighed, trying to bring remember the details of the vision was like trying to remember a dream, "Just the tops of other building, they kinda looked all square and uniform, like an apartment complex or something…and, there were trees. Not between the apartments, more on the edge, like it was near the woods…That's it, no signs, or landmarks, nothing."

'Okay,' John tried to process the information, 'it might help to narrow the search down, but right now we don't have any options to narrow down from.' "What about any sounds…could you hear anything?"

Sam tried to keep his temper. He knew that he was tired and that he would be quick to anger, but seriously did his dad think that he hadn't thought of that? "No, Dad, I told you, the only thing that I could hear was the baby."

Sensing Sam's quickly deteriorating mood John tried to find something else to latch onto. "What about the card? Was there anything else on the card?"

Suddenly feeling sick of going over the same small details while some woman could be getting ready to die Sam threw up his hands saying, "No, Dad. There wasn't anything, nothing. Just her face, a barcode, this godforsaken town, and a…" wait, shit. Sam closed his eyes trying to picture the card in his mind. His eyes snapping open he reached for a pen and a pad of paper sketching out simple symbol.

"Sam, Sam, what is it?" John asked as his son furiously scratched something onto a piece of paper.

"This symbol. I know I've seen it somewhere. It was so obvious, I didn't even think to remember it. I just don't know where…" Sam trailed off as he finished, pushing the pad towards his father with the same amount of eager hope as a kid bringing home his first art project.

John looked at the symbol, recognizing it instantly. It was understandable why Sam had missed it, it was on half on the legal documents and i.d.s that they forged. "It's a stamp that means it's certified by the U.S. military. She wouldn't need one of these unless she was working on a military base, or maybe a lab."

"But I thought there weren't any bases around here."

"No, but maybe she just moved or something and needs the identification. I still have some friends in the military, they can get me a list of people just transferred into the area." John was starting to get that familiar adrenaline rush that came as soon as he knew that he was closing in on his goal. It was just a matter of time now.

An hour later Sam had checked the weapons and packed the car. He looked up expectantly as his dad came back inside. Seeing the puzzled look on his face he questioned, "Dad, what's wrong. Did you find her?" 'Please tell me we aren't back at square one.'

John looked at his son, seemingly weighing his options. "Yeah, I think so. I talked to an old buddy of mine. He said that the only people that had any military connections that had moved to this area in the last year are all male or over 40." Watching Sam's face fall, he moved on. "But he said that he'd heard a rumor. Apparently there's a program out here on some base that isn't on any of the standard lists. Supposedly some the military's favorite boys are being housed at a base in the middle of the woods. Trying the study the effects of intensive training and lifestyle change, or something like that."

Sam looked skeptical, "So you think that they took a new mother for a training program?"

"Probably not, but maybe. She might just be a worker there, or someone's wife or daughter. Either way, this is our only lead so I managed to get an approximate location. Looks like we might be doing some hiking."

John's prediction proved to be accurate. They drove the impala a few miles into the woods before they had to get out and walk. It wasn't long before John stopped, motioning ahead of them with his head. Squinting, Sam could see a watch tower, blinding in with the surrounding trees, and a perimeter fence.

Ten minutes later, they could see the base. They started to circle it slowly before coming to an entrance that seemed to be less strictly guarded. Four men stood around talking. John resisted the urge to scream at them to pay attention and guard the gate like they were supposed to. Early mornings had never been an excuse for his sons when he gave them an order. Rolling his eyes, he signaled for Sam to wait for an opening. Seeing it, they managed to creep in unseen.

Sam looked around, trying to orient himself. All of the buildings looked similar, but after a few moments he started to move towards what he hoped was the one from his vision. Doing their best to hide, they spoke quietly.

"So, what's the plan? We can't exactly knock on the door and ask to speak with whoever has a six month old baby, and tell her that there's a gas leak." Sam's voice came out in a hushed whisper.

"We need to make sure that this is her. Then we can feed the base commander some story."

They both shut up as they heard someone open the door to leave the building. "Yeah, well I don't care about civic duty or any of that shit. I can't wait to pack my bags and get out of here." Sam strained his neck to see who was speaking. It was a red headed woman.

A second voice responded, "I know what you mean. This place my be a far cry from what it used to be but I'll be happier when I've got a few states and a nice big fence between me and it. By the way, did you get your travel assignment yet?"

That was defiantly her. She was dressed similarly to the first girl, in loose sweat pants and a wife beater. Most of her hair was pulled back into a braid that fell a few inches below her shoulders, but the short, curly strands that framed her face were left alone. Sam signaled to his dad that they had found her. They started jogging as the red head responded, "Yeah, we're heading up to Canada. You?" Sam crouched low as the voices faded away.

"Alright, so what are we going to tell the base…" Sam stopped as his father's attention jerked away form him. Turning, he tried to see what had caught his father's eye behind him. It didn't take him long. There, walking, not even having the decency to hide, was some_thing_. It was defiantly humanoid, even wearing clothes. But its features were too sharp. Teeth and claws too long. As the light hit it's eyes they glowed yellow. When it paused, Sam reached behind him for his gun. He watched in a morbid sort of fascination as it raised it's nose to the sky and seemed to sniff the air. He let out a breath he didn't even know that he had been holding as it passed by.

Slowly, he and John started to move, intent on leaving the base before reentering using identification marking them as official military personnel. Their plans came to something of an abrupt halt they held the click of safeties being released behind them. Putting their hands up omaticly, they turned. Facing them with expressions that looked somewhat bemused were two men that looked to be about Sam's age, maybe a few years older. The first had dark hair and eyes, and was apparently superior to the blond haired one because he began the questioning.

"So," he began in surprisingly laid back manner, "I'm going to go on a hunch and say that you two aren't selling girl scout cookies." Seeing that his captives weren't about to rise to the bait he gave a sigh. "You know, this really isn't my job. I was just supposed to do a few classes today. Now I have to walk you to lockdown and assign you babysitters until we get you sorted." He actually did sound kind of regretful.

"Or you could pretend that you didn't see us?" John cast his son a look. Sam shrugged, you never knew, weirder things had happened.

The dark haired man's eyebrows shot up and the corner of his mouth started twitching. "I'm not ever going to bother responding to that one." It seemed as though he had suddenly pulled a mask over his face. His expression went blank and his voice came out monotonous, "Come on, keep your hands were I can see them and start marching." He kept the gun at chest level as he herded him towards a building near the center of the base.

When he motioned for the blond man to open the door before them a surprisingly young sounding voice sounded out, "Hey Jiff, Biggs." The blond grinned a little.

"Hey Dalton, you draw the shot straw?" As Sam and John stepped in they could see the speaker. 'Shit, no wonder he sounded so young,' Sam thought, 'what is he 15?'

"Yeah," 'Dalton's' voice was somewhat more subdued as he observed the men being led into one of the cells. Sam and his father were searched and stripped of all of their weapons, which were placed in the room behind the door opposite to the one which they had entered. The cell they were led into, was fair sized, clean, like it hadn't been used. Realizing that they meant to leave them there with the boy as a guard, John decided to speak up.

"Look, we don't want to cause any trouble, but we need to speak to the commander here. It's important." He did his best to sound confident and important, like officials often did.

He was met with three sets of searching eyes. It was the man, now identified as Jiff or Biggs that said, "If it was that important, you would have used the telephone, just like everyone else does. If you want to speak to the commander, hell even if you don't, you're going to sit right there until tomorrow morning when he usually does the survey." Having said all that he would on the subject, he turned to leave the building.

Still hoping that he might sway the man John called out, "Listen, you have to let us speak with him right away; it isn't something that can wait." The man continued to ignore them. Sam was fairly sure that he heard one of them say something about "fucking reporters" as the door swung closed.

Deciding to try his luck, Sam turned to Dalton. "Kid, look, we really need to speak to your C.O. here. Someone could get hurt if we don't." The kid looked at him for a moment with a flash of something between hate and disgust before letting the same emotionless mask drop onto his face.

They tried this tactic for what seemed like a few hours, though they really had no way of knowing how long it was. After a while they settled into the far corner of their cell and started planning. "Dad what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Once we speak with the guy in charge I can feed him some story, but our real problem is that thing that was walking down the street." They were both whispering. It seemed as though their guard wasn't paying any attention, but they didn't want to chance it.

Sam thought back. It had been fairly early in the morning, but it seemed impossible that the demon had gotten so far into the base without anyone spotting it. "Do you think that it was hiding itself somehow?"

"Maybe," John replied, "but then how were we able to see it without any problem?" They continued to pass ideas back and forth. Eventually, the guard changed. His replacement was a young woman of about he same age. She had dark hair, and dusky skin with darker freckles covering her nose. Her clear blue eyes stood out sharply in contrast. The two of them spoke for a few moments before Dalton took off.

He stopped by the door and said, "I'll bring you back something from the mess for dinner." John and Sam both had a distinct feeling that he wasn't talking to them. They tried getting the girl to talk but were met only with the same blank stare. They eventually went back to their conversation.

It had been dark for a few hours when they heard someone moving around in the room in which their weapons were being kept. Apparently, there was another enterance on through there. The girl walked over and opened the door, relaxing her stance as she said, "Hey, sir. What are you doing here?"

"Hey Fleck. Dalton said that he promised you some food. I'm just playing delivery boy since he got caught up in some training exercises. How have our guests been behaving?" The voice sounded oddly familiar.

"They haven't tried anything yet. Biggs thought that they were reporters, but the way they've been talking about a transhuman they saw I'm almost surprised that they weren't carrying burning 'X's," the girl responded as she reached out to take something from the still unviewable man. "How's Max doing?"

"Oh, she's fine. We both still feel like crying every morning we wake up and realize that we made it through the entire night." The voice sounded somewhat amused.

The girl actually gave a small laugh as she said, "You make it sound like you've been through a traumatic experience."

The man was defiantly amused as he began to walk into the room, "Yeah, well whoever said…Holy shit!" The man was now visible to Sam and John. 'Holy Shit is right!'

"Dean…what…what's going on," Sam asked hesitantly. John was for once speechless. His son, who had been missing for seven months, was standing right in front of him and he couldn't think of a damned word to say.

"You guys shouldn't be here…" Dean looked panicked, "what in hell are you doing here?"

"Dean, what are you doing here? You just disappeared. What, did you join the army or something?" Sam couldn't believe the nerve of his brother.

"Sam," it was John who interceded for once, "it doesn't matter right now. Dean we have to get out of here. We've been tracking the demon, it's going to attack. Here; maybe tonight."

"What? How do you know? Forget that, how are you going to stop it?" Dean was suddenly all business as he moved around, retrieving the key to unlock the cell. The girl didn't move to stop him. She just stood back a respectful distance and watched.

"We have a gun, it should be able to kill it. It's going to attack a woman in the next few days." Sam went to the other room to retrieve their weapons as his father spoke.

"What woman?" Dean asked.

"We i.d.ed her earlier today. She lives a few buildings away. She has dark hair, and she'd have to have a baby with her. The demon only attacks on the night the baby is six months old." Sam watched as two very interesting reactions took place. The so far stoic girls face suddenly jerked toward John. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but it audibly snapped shut as her eyes turned to watch Dean. Dean's face immediately drained of color. For a second Sam thought he would faint. In blur of motion, Dean was suddenly at the door yelling at Fleck.

"Sent people down to put out a fire at that B quarters." Then he began to run. Without needing any more of a hint, John and Sam followed. They were lucky that the woman's house was near by or they might have gotten lost because Dean was already trying to bread down the door by the time they arrived. Apparently, it had refused to open. They ran past the divisions marking separate living spaces, Dean stopping ahead of them to open the door to one of them. The demon must have been trying to slow him down because it too was stuck. It took him only a moment to break it down, and Sam hoped that it wasn't a moment too long.

Running thought the room in which his vision had started, Sam started to feel a deep sense of dread, remembering the scream, blood, and fire. As if responding to his thoughts, he heard the distinct sound of a baby crying.

He could now clearly see into the room, he held up the gun that he had almost forgotten was in his had, breathing too heavily to say anything. There was a dark shadowed figure standing over the crib. Looking up, Sam could see the woman pinned to the ceiling, her stomach blessedly still unbloodied. "Sam shoot it!" his father's command automatically made his finger begin to tighten.

"Sammy, no! Wait," Sam paused, looking at his brother. What he saw shocked him. It was him, no denying it. But his eyes, they seemed to almost glow an eerie green, like a cat's. Dean kept his focus of the demon, but jerked his head up towards the woman on the ceiling. It took Sam only a moment to notice the shallow gash which had begun to open of the left side of her stomach.

"Listen up demon," Dean, sounded pissed, hell even Sam was a little scared by the cold tone he used, "we both get a freebee this time. You let her go, we let you go. We can try to kill each other again later." The demon cocked it's head slightly, as if considering the offer. Then it was gone, no pop or smoke, just gone.

Sam winced a little as the woman began to fall from her place in the ceiling. Instead of hearing a loud thump, however, he was happy, and surprised to see the woman land on her feet in a crouch. Sam stood in something resembling shock, feeling as though he was forgetting something as he watched his brother and the woman run towards the crib.

The sudden roar of fire quickly alerted him to the danger which he had forgotten about when the demon disappeared. Somehow both the woman and Dean had retreated from the crib and were halfway out of the door before John and he had managed to leave. Dean called back "Sammy, Dad, move it!" Needing no further inspiration, father and son ran like the fires of hell were at there heals…which was kind of literal.

As they made their way outside they passed a few dozen people who Sam assumed had been living in the other apartments. 'Weird, I don't remember hearing fire alarm.' Sam saw a fire team already approaching with hoses.

Once they had reached a safe distance John turned to him and started speaking in hurried tones, "Sam, what the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you shot the-" Sam motioned for him to stop and gestured to the woman, who looked, understandably, shake. 'Maybe we'll get lucky and she won't remember some of those details.'

Sam glanced at his father and brother quickly to make sure that neither were hurt. His father seemed to be angry still over the missed opportunity, and his brother seemed to be checking the baby in his arms for any injuries.

Sam then turned his attention to the woman. Despite the cut, she didn't seem to be bleeding excessively, and it didn't look like she'd taken any injury from the fall or the fire. Deciding to try his luck while she might still be in shock, Sam took a deep breath and began, "Miss, are you alright?" The woman's attention jerked away from the baby she was holding to focus on Sam. "There was a gas leak in your building, I think you may have hit you…"

Wait a minute…baby, look at Dean…baby. His mind suddenly blanked when faced with such a…normal, weird thing. "Twins?" Not very intelligent, but it popped out anyways. The woman looked at Sam for a moment, giving him enough time to blush a little over the random topic change.

She shook her head a little, "No." Seeing Sam's confused look She took a step closer to Dean and elbowed him a little. Dean had a 'what were you talking about?' look on his face before he figured it out and held up the bundle in his arms for a better view. Sam could see two little faces. "Three," she said simply.

"Oh…okay. ummm…right. There was a gas leak, I think you might have hit your head," Sam continued, he slowed down a little as Dean gave him a panicked look and started mouthing 'no', "You had passed out, you were coming to just when the fire started. We should probably check for a concussion."

The look on her face...wow. Sam was actually kind or scared. If looks could kill he would be so very dead. He couldn't help but notice that little muscle right above her eye twitch just a little, before she started in a light poisoned honey voice, "Oh…okay" 'Is she mocking me?' "So you're telling me that what I was fairly sure was a demon showing up next to my babies' crib, pinning me to the ceiling, and then starting to gut me like a fucking fish before starting a fire, was…a _gas leak_."

John decided to step in and defend his obviously uncomfortable son, only to be pinned with the same sharp, angry glance from the woman, "Look, miss, I'm pretty sure you whacked your head pretty hard. Why don't you just find your husband so he can bring you to the hospital and have you checked over."

She opened her mouth to say something, but then paused. Slowly she let her eyes travel from John's face to Sam's, her eyebrows lifting and her lips curving into a smile that brought the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland to mind. "Husband? What makes you think that I'm married?"

It wasn't hard to catch her drift. John shifted a little uncomfortably under her gaze. He didn't have a problem with single mothers, but this woman seemed to be taking a bit too much pleasure out of the situation. He tried to salvage, "Sorry, I assumed that you were only living on the base because your husband was stationed here."

She smiled again, "Nope. I'm only here because my dear old dad wants me to stay right were he can keep an eye on me. What better place than a military base?"

'Oh great. A military brat.' "Sorry again Miss…"

"Max." She got that smile on her face again, she turned to look at Dean, "You know, speaking of _dad_, I should probably go debrief the asshole about our gas leak before he comes to check on it him self." With that she took a step forward and half dropped, half handed John the baby in her arms. Then she, reached over and took one from Dean and gave it to Sam. Looking over the three of them like an artist checking one lat time to make sure that the details of a work are perfect she nodded once before giving one more smile aimed at Dean and putting a comforting hand on his upper arm for just a moment. "I guess that I'll just go ahead and break the ice of this little family reunion. Sam congratulations you're an uncle. John, contrats you're a grandpa." With that, she turned on her heel and left with a little bounce in her step and humming to a tune under her breath.


	3. Fool's Goodbye

I am sooooo sorry. I loved all the reviews. But seriously, please criticize, give suggestions. I think that I'm going to hit a writers block soon. In my defense, my little sister deleted, yes deleted, this chapter when I was almost done, not once, but twice. I'm working on the next one. Please enjoy. Oh, IMPOTANT…please read my story, "okay with me." It's kind of a prequel to this story….read, you'll like it…maybe. By the way, the poem below is from Robin Hobb. Read the Farseer Trilogy, Liveship Trilogy, and the Tawny Man Trilogy, in that order. You can skip Liveship ones. They are just wonderful.

_In that last dance of chances_

_I shall partner you no more._

_I shall watch another turn you_

_As you move across the floor._

_In that last dance of chances_

_When I bid your life good-bye_

_I will hope she treats you kindly._

_I hope you learn to fly._

_In that last dance of chances_

_When I know you'll not be mine_

_I will let you go with longing_

_And the hope that you'll be fine._

_In that last dance of chances_

_We shall know each others minds._

_We shall part with our regrets_

_When ties no longer bind._

- The Fool (Robin Hobb's character)

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You know those pauses that they talk about in books? The ones were you know that the story just changed, and nothing will ever be the same for the characters? Well, Sam was pretty sure that they were having one of those. Just to check that he hadn't gone crazy, he asked, "Dean…" damn his voice hadn't done that since puberty, "did she just say that...are these really…"God the words were hard.

Dean, as always, took care of the problem, "Yeah, uhhh…yeah, these are mine." Maybe it was just his imagination, but Sam would have sworn that he saw Dean's arms tighten compulsively around the bundle in his arms. Tilting his head foreword, then towards Sam, and finally towards their father, he said, "Tristan, and the girls, Blythe and Noah." They lapsed into silence again.

John was trying to grasp the four simple words, 'Dean was a father.' He didn't doubt that Dean could take care of the kids, he had practically raised Sam even though he wasn't with them half the time. But he just didn't understand how something like this could have happened. Dean had always tomcatted around, but John had always hoped that once they killed the demon his son could settle down with a nice woman. Someone who could keep him grounded who he could come home to, and kids.

John looked down at the baby in his arms. 'Who the hell names a girl Noah?' The little corners of her mouth lifted as she gurgled out a giggle and waved her arm, her fist grasping. John conceded, offering her his finger which she grabbed and tried to chew on. John suddenly knew that he already thought of her as partially his. She had eyes that John knew belonged to his son, and her mother's hair.

The mother… In all of John's dreams of Dean settling down, it had been with a nice woman. Max seemed like that type that Dean might have met at a bar. John had seen the type before. A spoiled military brat who managed to get through the army because of daddy's help. She was probably his little princess, and got to play bitchy tough girl without worrying about discipline. She seemed too wild to be a mother. John wondered if that was why they hadn't married; they already knew that they couldn't make it work.

Dean spoke up again, "Look, I'm going to get you guys settled down in one of the spare apartments, then we need to talk." Both John and Sam agreed, and started to follow Dean, still toting the babies.

Dean opened a door to one of the building, Sam and John followed him in and waited while he took the babies and settled them in the center of the bed. Dean continued to move around the room, shifting things and checking on menial details, stalling. John decided to put and end to it, saying in a somewhat exhausted voice, "Dean…" he met his eyes, and for a moment the near panicked look in them made John want to comfort him. But then he looked away, collected his nerves, and his father's gaze with a determined look.

"You guys should sit down," seeing that they weren't moving he added, "Really." Once they were seated, he began, "Sammy, how much do you know about the hunting trips I used to go on when we were kids?"

Sam was a little surprised by the question, "Not much, just what Dad told me. That you needed the practices, and could handle it."

"Dean, you don't need to bring this up now." The warning in John's voice caught Sam's attention. He turned questioning eyes towards Dean.

"Yeah, actually I do. Sam, when Mom and Dad were trying to get pregnant for the first time they were having some problems. They went to go see a doctor, military because Dad was still covered. They did all the tests, and asked questions. Wanted to know about their families' physical, physiological, hell even emotional history. Anyways, the tests came back and they told Mom that she wasn't able to carry a baby.

On the bright side, there was an experimental procedure that could help them. Once it was all tested it would probably cold a shit load, but they were still looking for couples willing to try something new, so Mom and Dad were offered it free.

The basic idea was that they took the necessary samples, put them together in a Petri dish, and then used a surrogate. Nine months later, you've got a baby. Of course, scientists would do testing and whatever necessary alterations to make sure that the baby didn't have any genetic problems. They even got Dad to sign a form allowing them to use genetic manipulation to get rid of 'imperfection.' It was really too bad when the doctors told them that there had been some problems, and they lost the baby about four months in.

A couple years later Dad heard about a program that was studying the effects of genetic engineering on fetuses and the resulting children. It was all hushed over, but Dad still had some connections, so he looked into it. Turned out that all the scientists, nurses, doctors, everyone that had anything to do with it was on this program's payroll. He kept prying into it, raised enough of a fuss that he eventually got the attention that he was looking for. Bottom line was that he found out that the baby, I, was alive. The deal was that I got to go home with him, but I went back whenever they wanted me for testing, observations, whatever. Dad would have argued for more, but all this was pretty high up in the government." Dean paused to let it sink in.

Sam tried to wrap his mind around it, "So…Dean, you're…wow" Okay time to look at the facts and save the awkward emotional baggage for latter. After all, he'd heard of surrogates being used for babies before, not too weird. "But what does that have to do with all of this?"

"Sammy," Dean began again, "that _is_ all this." He ran his hands over his face and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment, "What do you guys know about transgenics?" Sam felt the floor drop out from beneath him. 'No, no, no…fuck no.'

"They, umm…they're a mix…or animal and humans," 'like that cat lady we saw this morning' "they were made to hunt and kill things for the military," 'kinda like how Dean hunts demons' "and…" 'wait, solid ground "there are a couple hundred of the. They're all living in a barricaded off part of Seattle. They have some outside interaction, press conferences and stuff, but the army has a pretty firm hold on them.

Dean's smile was almost wistful. "Yeah, good old Terminal City. Well Sammy let me tell you a few national secrets. First of all, trangenics have been walking in and out of TC ever since they started gathering there and the government can't do shit to stop it. Which actually brings me to number two. It's a good thing the transgenics didn't get too attached to Seattle; there are too many of them to fit. Last time I took a head count there are between five and six thousand of us."

Sam heard a ringing in his ears. He wasn't quite sure if it had started at the word, 'thousand' or 'us'. He wanted to question his brother, but he was already talking again.

We all started form human samples. They wanted to make sure that there was a history of intelligence, mental and genetic stability, and hopefully some military service. Didn't hurt if they were physically attractive. Toss in some Einstein, McArthur… anything worth having, and they had a fairly good base to start manipulating. They started with transhumans. Didn't really care how they looked as long as they got the job done. They usually specialized, you know, desert or underwater ops, even cranked out the pys-ops.

By the time they got to the X-series they were more specific. They wanted perfect all around, and human looking too. First series were a bust for a bunch of reasons, only a handful left from each of them. But the X-5s, damn, those really were perfect…well not really. Sometimes they were a little to rebellious, one of the side effects of the independent thinking they needed for leadership requirements, and the seizures, but those were controlled later on. Of course they tried to improve on it.

They wanted the X-6s to be more submissive. Took away some of the punch, and in the end, they were even harder to control than we were sometimes. If you were able to prove that you were dominant, they would follow you like puppies, but their instincts wouldn't accept the normals as dominant, so they were tossing around the idea of getting rid of the entire series because they couldn't control them. X-5s ended up having to give a standing order to the '6s to follow all the guards' orders. Didn't always work out perfectly, but apparently it was good enough for government work

They tried for total submission in the X-7s. Ended up with freaky hive minded bat kids. Haven't seen one for a while. They're probably all dead. Kinda freaked out by their baby Draculas they added more human DNA to the mix. Poor kids really didn't enjoy the hunt as much as they should have. Most of them probably wouldn't have passed the sensitivity culls if the X-5s hadn't coached them through some of them. Tried again with the X-9s. Mentally, they were about right, but they didn't quite measure up physically. They might have settled on the X-10s. They were a little stronger than the '9s and more aggressive than the '8s. Their real flaw was that they developed at a human rate, whereas the earlier series all had accelerated growth and hit all the developmental landmarks a lot faster.

Anyways, I was around two years old when they told me that I'd be participating in a special program. And yeah, before you ask, I could understand all this when I was two. Dad you have no idea how close you came to just being killed to get you out of the way, but they thought it would make an interesting study, and it would improve me long term deep cover skills. I was supposed to act like a normal slightly above average kid with you. I gave a full repot every time I came back. Got extra training and trips to psy-ops too, just to make sure that I wasn't being negatively affected by the outside world. I was pulled from the program back in '09. There was even talk of terminating me because of…stuff. After some intensive testing I was determined to be so fucking stable they let me go back. I fucked up a mission a few years back. That combined with some other stuff…I was sure that they'd already loaded the gun for my execution, miracle I made it through that. Then Manticore went down. It tried to just go back…you know, be Dean Winchester, but I had to go back to Seattle to help them. They're my family."

Sam and John stood in varying states of shock. Unbelievable words and phrases floated through their minds, refusing to form complete thoughts. "You…you're a transgenic? And everyone here…All that time it was just some mission? You wee studying us or something? Sam couldn't help but feel betrayed.

"No…shit! It wasn't like that. I mean at first I just did what they wanted me to do but…Honestly; I never even wanted to tell you. It's not just that I'm a transgenic…I don't even know what the hell I am. Not really. All of us, we were just supposed to be soldiers, no feeling no thought, but we weren't. It's like…God I don't even know. Everything, smell, sight, touch, scenes and instincts that I don't even know what to call; they're all hyper alert all the time. And then there was you guys. Believe it or not you were my version of normal.

For the past four years…I've been, me. X-5 494 was just a soldier. CO with a few black marks on my record but a near perfect soldier when my unit suffers as much as I do for my failures. Dean…well you know him. Now I'm Alec. You know, as in Smart-Alec." He gave a twisted little smile, "It's still me though. You're still my family."

"Why did you just leave then, huh? You just disappeared."

"Max…I left her. Things were starting to settle down, we'd decided to have kids and everything. I called you," he cask a look at John, "I wanted to tell you, maybe not about everything, but at least introduce you to Max. You know go on a hunt for a week and slip in that I had a girlfriend or something. But…well, you didn't answer. I left her to go looking for you. She wouldn't have hated me you know, or at least she would have forgiven me. But I had to be here for it." He glanced over at the surprisingly quite babies who in turn stared at him with liquid eyes.

"Max, she's one of them to? I thought she said her dad was a commander here?"

"Lydecker? Holy Hell! No…just no. Max is one of us. 'Deck used to be one of the commanders at Manticore. He was the best of them, but we all still kinda hate him. Max and he just have a more…strained relationship."

They spoke for another hour before Max showed up at the door. Watching them carefully she just smiled before picking up two of the babies. Alec said his quiet goodnights and promised to see them the next day, saying that they should report with the soldiers in the morning if they wanted something to do until the afternoon. "Say good night to Sammy and Grandpa " Max whispered to the triplets before leaving. Sam and John found them selves smiling as the babies cooed and waved their little fists.

Sam and John were jolted from their sleep the next morning the shrill sound of a trumpet. Sam looked over at the clock. There it sat, innocently displaying the numbers 4:00. Sam felt the sudden urge to hit the damn thing. Following his father's lead, Sam rolled out of bed and pulled on some clothes.

They were greeted with a particular site when they arrived at the drill field. There were definitely two distinct groups. The first was composed of what John n could identify as a few well seasoned vets and a few younger recruits. Probably at the top of their classes and old enough to have been on a few missions. The other group…well, frankly if it weren't for the dog/cat/lizard/something people standing amongst them John would have thought he'd found a gathering of models. He was willing in the entire lot of them. They were young, from five to maybe twenty-five. It was unnerving to see so many perfect faces staring blankly foreword.

"So, you're John and Sam Winchester?" They turned to look at the speaker, a man in his 50s, still solidly built, with a full head of grey hair, and steal grey eyes.

"Yes, sir." John had a feeling that this man was used to being addressed as 'sir.' "I'm John Winchester, and this is my son, Sam."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. I've heard only positive things about you. I'm Col. Donald Lydecker. I was informed that you'd be watching some of my kids during training today." The man, Lydecker, scanned the crowd. He hadn't asked it as a question, so neither Sam nor John felt compelled to answer. After a moment of consideration her called out in a clear voice, "X5-325, come here. The rest of you can begin your morning exercises and proceed with the day." As one they saluted and, in straight lines, began to jog towards the perimeter in what Sam would have called and ungodly sprint if they hadn't seemed so relaxed.

He noticed that the older, more…normal group was still standing at attention. Lydecker turned to them and said, "Congratulations men. You've just completed the most difficult training of your lives. You all have your next assignments. I want you all to get something from the mess and report back here at 0700 with all of your belonging ready for transport. Dismissed."

As the men left he turned his attention to the blond woman standing before them. She was just a few years older than Sam. She had clever, green-grey eyes and an almost milky complexion with cheeks and lips the same rosy color. "X5-325, I want you to escort these two for the day," why did that sound a lot like baby-sit "Get them fed, exercised, let them watch, participate, whatever they like."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Dismissed." She continued to watch impassively for a moment as he walked away before she said in a somewhat monotonous tone, "Asshole."

Seeing their surprised look she shook her head and gave a grin, "I don't hate him enough to have an excuse to kill him…at least not right now and we have to act like good little soldiers during the formal bits, so I'm forced to fall back on calling him names behind his back."

She continued without pause, "So, I'm Cece ad I'll be your escort today. Follow me please." With that she turned on her heel and began walking in the other direction. John and Sam quickly caught up.

"So," Sam started, "Cece…you're a…"

"Transgenic? Yeah, genetically enhanced killing machine with all the bells and whistles." The look in her eyes was not one of outright hostility, more like a challenge.

"Bells and whistles?"

She gave a smile, part pity, part humor, part vindictive pleasure. "You'll see." She led them into a building. The men who had been standing in formation were now seated, in different stages of eating and talking excitedly.

Upon seeing Cece they all fell quiet. She gave a small laugh, "Don't worry, you aren't in training anymore. Feel free to bitch and moan all you like." Needing no more prodding, they continued.

Cece walked up to the cafeteria style line of food and grabbed a plate. She promptly began loading it with as much food as would fit, sticking a piece of toast in her mouth when she ran out of room. John moved to stop her, "Miss, we can get our own food."

Balancing the plate in one hand and taking the toast from her mouth with the other she said, "Given your ages, I would hope so." They watched in awe as she polished off what John mentally referred to as a 'growing teenaged boy' sized meal as they ate their own meals. When she caught them staring, she just mumbled something about high metabolisms.

After, she took them back outside where she put them through a good hour of two of exercises. They were both panting by the end of it. She gave a nod of what might have been approval before passing them bottles of water and motioning for them to follow her again. After a moment, she stopped.

In a somewhat strained tone she asked, "Do you hate him now? I can count on one hand the number of ordinaries that he actually gives a damn about. He's not like what people say on TV. He didn't want to hurt you, just…he's important to me, to all of us. It would hurt him if you hated him."

Her earnest tone prodding Sam into honesty, "We don't hate him. It's just that, it's like we don't know him."

She gave a bittersweet smile, "Fair enough. You don't. Part of him, you'll never understand." She turned her back and continued walking before speaking in a much lighter voice. "I'm going to let you spar with a few of our X-9s. I'll go ahead and warn you. They look cute as hell, but don't go easy on them.

2 hours later

"Is it just me, or did I just get my ass kicked by an eight year old in pigtails?"

John just grunted in response, but when he lifted his arm to touch a bump in his head and couldn't hold help but to exclaim when the muscle gave a sudden twinge of pain. "God, damn." Sighing he said, "I'm not sure what hurts worse, my pride or the rest of me." Just then, said eight year old bounced by them, smiling sweetly at them as her blond curls created a halo around her head.

Sam voiced John's thoughts, "Devil child…possessed at least." John just grunted again.

Later

"Come on, come on!" Cece was more energetic than she had been all day. 'Hell' Sam thought, watching her weight from one foot to the other while he and his father scraped their plates clean, 'she really was bouncing.'

"What are we in such a hurry for?"

She gave a smile that could have lit up a city. "You'll see." Her smile was contagious, but they were both still weary. The pigtailed devil had a cute smile also…and dimples too.

They followed her to a building near the living quarters. They were a little surprised at the guards. Other that the entrances to the base, they hadn't seen any stationed at doors. Apparently though, they knew Cece well, because they just nodded her through and barley bothered raising an eyebrow over her guests. She turned down a few hallways before opening a door.

The first thing they noticed was the large figure that immediately stepped foreword to wrap an arm around Cece's shoulders. They recognized his face and voice simultaneously; Biggs. "Hey, Cece. How's the babysitting-op going?"

She just rolled her eyes, before dropping down to her knew and saying in that voice, "How are my favorite boys?" That voice, of course, being the voice that women usually reserved for small animals, babies, and, occasionally, sappy romances. Which, made sense, considering that she was addressing twin thumb sucking babies…well technically toddlers the way they were standing, but they looked too young for that classification. Cece stopped her happy babbling for long enough to say, "You've already met Biggs. These are my nine month old boys, Rae and Keif."

Seeing that they had been completely dismissed from Biggs and Cece's attentions they looked around the room. It wasn't really just a room, more like a gym or an atrium with carpeting and couches. The number of doors convinced John that this was a common room. Judging by the dozen of so couple playing with children ranging from infants to about a year old, it was a nursery.

"Cutest little killing machines that you ever did see, huh?" Dean's voice came from behind them. John had given up on calling him Alec at least mentally. There if nowhere else he would always be Dean. They turned to like at hum, he was dressed in what appeared to be grey standard issues shirts and cammo. Going by the sarcasm, they decided not to answer.

He gave them a grin before leading them toward a cluster of people. Sam's first response to seeing that several of the women had their tops up, exposing their breasts to feed babies, was to slap a hand over his eyes and back away apologizing, but considering the way the women smiled, and if possible, raised a hand in greeting without breaking the flow of conversation around them, he managed to control the reaction.

"Well, it's about time you got here." Though she had somehow escaped their immediate notice, Max was sitting a few feet away from them pulling her shirt down. Alec sat down next to her, "Yeah, I got held up doing some extra drills with the X-8s." As soon as he was settled, he was swarmed by little rolling, crawling, and totting babies.

Watching the babies play in the circle of what Sam assumed were the parent, he realized that they didn't really act like normal babies. They were more like kittens, or maybe puppies. They wrestled and growled at each other in tones that he was sure humans couldn't produce. He ever saw one of them start to chew on another's ear. The strangest thing though, was how aware they were. Even the youngest of them, unable to hold his head up year, was following people with his eyes and giving toothless little baby grins from his mother's arms.

Sam got on his knees, feeling like a five year old trying to get a litter of puppies' attention. A little one, with curling red hair barely covering her hair stared at him for a moment, so close he could touch. He watched her open her little mouth, and flare her nostrils, 'shit, she can smell me.' She immediately grabbed the leg of the nearest adult and hid her head behind it. 'she can actually recognize me as a stranger…probably a human stranger.' The reaction was surprising, but Sam started to feel a little awkward after the third child hid from him.

One did approach him eventually, he recognized her as one of Alec's daughters. Not moving, almost scared that he would frighten her away if he did, he sat as she toppled into his lap and reached up to play with his face, as though she could move around his feature to her liking. Eventually she gave up and let out in a giggling, slurred voice, "Thammy."

He turned towards his father only to see him lifting up another of the three while the baby squealed, "Gampa." After the initial contact, others started to flock over to inspect them. Sam looked over at Alec and Max to see what they were making of the little melodrama. As far as he could tell, neither had even noticed.

Later…again

Sam knew he was dragging his feet, but dammit he was tired. They had been drug across the base ten times and right now both he and his father would kill for a bed.

"Don't worry." Cece was in a bright mood…had they really just met her this morning? "This is our last stop for the day. You haven't seen anything until you've seen X-5s sparring." They were nearing a large group of people in their early twenties. Cece turned to them again, "Okay, this is it for me. You guys just stay out of trouble; Alec will meet up with you when this is all done." She paused a beat, "Nice to meet you..." Then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

Sam and John stood at the edge of the crowd, waiting for the next match to start. It soon became apparent that the group had formed a circle and the fight would take place in the middle. Sam saw something out of the corner of his eye…Max.

He nudged his father and pointed her out, and he was getting ready to call out a greeting when she took off running a few steps in another direction. Following her with his eyes, he saw her take a running jump at a male figure and wrap her legs around him before locking lips. The man had dark shaggy hair…not Alec. "Holy shit…"

Sam mentally echoed his father. That cheating bitch, what the hell? They continued to watch, stunned, as Max was set down, and kissed the man once more before heading toward the circle. Sam was still so chocked it took him a moment to realize that she would be the next fighter. 'What am I supposed to tell Alec? How could she?'

John's own feelings were that of betrayal. He had just stated to like the spunky girl Dean was with. This was low, they'd just had children. He felt a deep welling of pity for his son and grandchildren as Max sauntered to the center and began to stretch her arms.

"You know Sam," Max's voice called out, "I really can't wait to put fist in that pretty face of yours." Max turned towards them "You know self flattery is a sin." Was she schizophrenic?

That's when he saw it. Max walked into the circle…towards Max. The new Max replied, "Oh, come on Sam. You want to keep talking or do you want to get you ass kicked."

Sam…twins…weird, but okay. Sam felt a wave a relief realizing that the woman wasn't Max. Then he watched as they started fighting.

Sam, the girl, launched herself forward at an incredible speed and tried to sweep Max's legs out from under her. Max flipped backwards and came foreword kicking and punching. The fight continued for a few minutes, each taking blows, before Max was knocked down. Sam was aiming a kick towards her head what Max caught her foot and twisted it until she joined her on the ground. Max lifted her leg up to a 90 degree angle to her body before bringing it down with enough strength to crush Sam's skull, before stopping it only an inch above her twin's head.

The fight was called and both the participants got up and left the circle. Max walked towards them, wiping a stream of blood from her lip before grinning. "How's it going?" They greeted her. "Only one more left." An almost obsessive light lit up in her eyes as she stared at the ring, and chewed on her lip.

The entire group grew quite. A blond man stepped into the ring. He had dark blond hair and deep blue eyes; he was also about 50 pounds heavier than Alec, who was following him. "Thane." Max answered before they could ask. Then, half talking to herself she added, "It doesn't really matter who wins, this isn't official, but it gives everyone an idea of what their chances are of winning in an actual challenge." 'challenge?'

The fight that followed was…intense. There was the normal punching, kicking, supernatural blurring, but there was also biting, drawn-out chokeholds, and blows to the head which looked like they could be deadly. It was like watching two animals fight. Sam found that he could barely identify the serious, vicious man in front of him with Dean. It was Alec who eventually pinned Thane down, fingers curled into claws around his neck and chest heaving. He had barley stood back up when Max ran across the ring and circled her arms around his neck. The redhead they had seen earlier with Max went to Thane and helped him up, rubbing his shoulder and leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Max pressed her lips against Alec's. She could easily taste the blood in his mouth. HE was covered in bruises, and his ribs might be bruised, but nothing was broken. She leaned in closer into him as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, and inhaled deeply. There was, of course, extra adrenaline, but it was still Alec; a little musky, blood, scotch, and leather, and under that, a healthy, earthy smell. It was almost like a wave that settled over her. At once a kick in the stomach, waking her up and heightening her senses and rounding out the rough edges of her mind.

She smiled and kissed him again, this time letting it last. They were both covered in bruises and blood, and she was purring. Who would ever have thought that she'd be here? Surrounded by warm, moving, transgenic bodies and in Alec's arms after watching him beat the hell out of a friend. Absolute, nirvana.

Hope you liked it. Please Review. And read okay with me. Thanks. Bye.


	4. IMPORTANT

IMPORTANT

Alright, anyone whose read my stuff knows the deal. I've lost any ability to continue writing this story, so I'm going to try to move on to another one. Anyone, and I mean ANYONE who feels like writing this story can have it. This means you have my full blessings and encouragement to continue the story from where it is or just take the basic idea and start from scratch. The only rule is that you tell me so that I can read it. Sorry again, but it doesn't seem fair to not give it up if I don't think I can keep writing it.


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